


Undercover and Under the Covers

by 99CANDY



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Heroes, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Porn With Plot, Superpowers, Teamwork, Villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28432575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/99CANDY/pseuds/99CANDY
Summary: "I thought heroes never got scared?" Donghyuck sits back on his heels, cocking that damn eyebrow up in a way that has Mark wanting to roll his thumb over it.Anything to rub it away."I wasn't scared," Mark puts no hesitation in his voice. "I said I was worried, Donghyuck.”
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 19
Kudos: 250
Collections: Markhyuck Week 2021





	Undercover and Under the Covers

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to write this without plot... but you'll come to find out that this kind of has a lot of plot. HA. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you do enjoy, because I really did enjoy writing this and I'd appreciate any kudos or comments!
> 
>  **Warning:** There is a lot of **swearing** in here. And **mentions of death.** As well as **blood and injuries.**

If Mark could have things his way, he'd choose a life without snow and an endless supply of foot long subs with extra banana peppers. No mayonnaise—he fucking _ hates _ mayonnaise.

"You got extra mustard," Donghyuck readjusts the heavy backpack full of bloody clothes. "Who the hell gets mustard like that?"

Donghyuck’s voice in his ears goes dry. Mark stops listening. 

Donghyuck is pinching his fingers at the spot underneath Mark’s ribs to guide them around the corner and Mark just follows the direction. He rolls his eyes to the back of his head while taking another bite of his sandwich.

_First of all,_ Donghyuck can't even say anything. He's never given it a thought, sucked it up, and tried banana peppers on his sandwich ever in his life. He stands with his chest all proud, a disastrous smirk on his face as he grips a flatbread in his hand. 

"Me," Mark crouches down to unwrap the next part of his sandwich, shoving some napkins into his back pocket. "Me, dipshit. I do."

His tennis shoes are torn to shreds. 

They're black now, covered in dirt and grime, rubbed raw from scraping against rust and from being drenched in oil. They’ve been drowning in wet, filthy snow and have even made Mark’s toes icy cold. Donghyuck had told him to wear boots, to come prepared, to arrive in an outfit that he wouldn't mind getting dirty. 

To be fair, he did say it while Mark’s tongue was busy in the middle of a speech for his government class.

Donghyuck had whispered it right in the earpiece that Mark’s team had assembled for the both of them to wear at all times during their weeks-long mission. His voice had bled through thick and humorous almost, stiffening the muscles in Mark’s neck as he stared wide-eyed at his class.

_ "I'm gonna need you to change out of those fucking ugly vans you're always wearing, my friend," _ Donghyuck had said to him just hours ago. _ "And once you do that, I sure hope you have a jacket with you, because I’m gonna need you to fuck on over to the lobby of The Plaza Hotel with or without it." _

Right then, Mark had stuttered over a paragraph in his power point, soon being corrected by one of his classmates who rudely told him he wasn’t even following his slides on the screen. Mark had to bite back words and turn to his professor, apologizing seven times in a row before he ran out of the classroom.

He felt weak without a suit. 

But Mark and Donghyuck were undercover. There’s no way the both of them could ever arrive in what people know them as—in what their enemies know them as. Instead, their teams have helped them with hiding equipment under thick coats. 

One that Mark had accidentally forgotten to carry with him that day. It was a careless decision made by him, but he had known no better. It had been their fourth day with no word, no luck. Mark still had class, a normal life to follow. It gets warm in his third class of the day.

_ “I don’t have a jacket, Donghyuck,”  _ Mark pressed his fingers to his ears as he squeezed through the people on the streets.  _ “Do I have time to run home _ _ —I _ _ mean, to the hotel?”  _

_ He hadn’t ever heard a response.  _

_ So Mark ran faster.  _

Mark also never climbed out of his shoes. He never chucked them off and tried to snag a pair from a store he passed by on his route. He really should have, because now his vans are filthy and he's dealing with the annoying look from the incredulous Donghyuck Lee. 

_ Haechan _ , the villain who smirks at him when Mark shows up. Mark remembers thick cuts on his face, fire burning brightly from behind him. He can’t answer through their radio piece, but he still has time to smirk at Mark through the injuries painted over his body.

His hands had been weak and high about his head, shirt torn and chest covered in hits and bruises that were building and darkening. He coughed and furrowed his eyebrows, leaning forward to check the feet of Mark.

“I told you to change your shoes, Lee,”  _ Haechan  _ told him, blood at the corner of his mouth, voice weak and eyebrows furrowed. 

It’s a relief for Mark to find him alive.

But there had been a fear in his gut. A panic that caught and tightened in his throat when Mark came soaring through the glass window of a burning building in order to find the villain he’s working with. 

Haechan is a red-haired, smirking asshole, but Mark’s heart clenches and lurches out for him as he, a hero, works alongside him.

“Dammit,” Mark had said to him, struggling to untie Donghyuck’s hands. His eyes were everywhere. Donghyuck’s nose and his forehead, previous scars frightening him. “How d’you already end up like this? Where is  _ he _ ?” 

“Mark,” Donghyuck swallowed hard, voice strained and achy in a way. Rough. “Mark, look at me.”

Mark wasn’t interested in his words, in his annoying tongue or his glaring. But Donghyuck had wiggled like a madman in order to bring Mark’s attention back to his own.

Regardless of where they had been—rooftop and fire ablaze behind them. Regardless of how the windows were shattering just below them, construction cranes swaying in the distance, Donghyuck was asking for Mark to drink in every word while he stood there, already torn and weakened by someone who Mark hasn't even been given confirmation over.

"Are you alright?" Mark had finished untying his hands, still working on pieces of knots, helping him back to his feet. 

Haechan knows how to keep his body tough, knows how to heal himself to an extent. But Donghyuck knows how dangerous self healing can be, especially when a self-heal takes away from the potential of helping others. In this case, Donghyuck understands that Mark may need healing in the next while. 

He doesn’t waste it on himself. Mark flushes.

Despite that, he grabs at Mark's chin to bring their eyes back to one another. 

"Mark."

"What?" Mark remembers snapping at him, finally giving in and ignoring the surrounding scene.

He knew they were wasting time. Time that they didn't have. 

"I hate playing the good guy. You know this," Donghyuck had been there, sucking in a gasp when his hands were completely freed. He had wiggled his fingers and smirked at Mark, turning to the side to spit out the blood pooling at the inside of his cheek. "Now, let's go."

Mark remembers it so clearly. The way they had finished everything. The relief, the hands that pressed to his body when Donghyuck reluctantly healed Mark rather than himself. They argued, came close to causing more of a scene when Mark nearly bit back a sob.  _ Let me help you,  _ Donghyuck’s eyes had said. Mark didn’t resist any longer. 

Now, Donghyuck uses his voice to speak, lips twitching into an annoying grin.

"Well, I think you should broaden your sandwich choices a bit, Superboy." 

_ Superboy.  _

Donghyuck gets a kick out of calling Mark such a name. He smirks and shoves his tongue so hard into his cheek when he does it. He will raise his eyebrow when he observes the color that spreads desperately over Mark’s poor cheeks.

Mark doesn’t even have time to hide his blush when Donghyuck calls him that.

They walk on.

With about two blocks before they make it back to the hotel they're staying at, Mark thinks.

There in the room, it'll be dark. It will be cold, and even quieter than it currently is on the streets they walk on. But there's a sense of familiarity to the hotel they've been staying in for the past three weeks. The walls are flowery, there are tan and maroon shades up and down the wallpaper, while the bed sits—rather yells at them from the center of the room. 

In the hotel, Mark believes that the bed can make or break the entire thing. Just like the view. And while the view sucks in their hotel, he thinks that the bed is awfully comfortable against his back. He's been waking up on the firm mattress for almost a month now, still attending classes and spending hours every night trying to find the location of an extremely wealthy and disgustingly evil man. 

_ On the twentieth day, Donghyuck and Mark take him down together, and grab fucking foot longs on their way back to their hotel. _

Mark has mustard on his nose. He can feel it. 

He knows that Donghyuck sees it there. He knows that he's avoiding saying anything so that Mark can embarrass himself in front of everyone that they walk by. Even if no one is really looking.

That’s just who he is.

Mark really wishes he could read Donghyuck's thoughts right about now, because he can see the smirk out of the corner of his eye as the boy bites into his sandwich.

The snow trickles down onto their faces, falls gracefully on the hoods of their sweatshirts. Mark sees the pink tip of Donghyuck's nose and wonders why he isn't just warming himself up.  _ He's got it in him,  _ Mark thinks.  _ He can close his eyes tight and warm the tips of his fingers, even burn the edges of his sandwich if he so pleases.  _

_ Hell, he can warm me up,  _ Mark swallows hard. 

Donghyuck takes a good look at him, bringing every one of Mark’s bones to an uncomfortable stiffness. Mark shifts, turns toward Donghyuck and raises an eyebrow, blinking a few times. Mark plants his feet and says nothing, looks at him like he isn't sure what either of them are going to say next. 

"You gonna walk?" Donghyuck flickers his gaze behind Mark, showing that the two of them should start walking before the sign of the crosswalk turns into a red hand. 

Mark buries his tongue between his lips and then blurs his eyes over while he fixates on the chapped lips on Donghyuck’s face. 

It’s so cold outside.

He turns quick on his heels and takes an extra bite out of his sandwich. 

When Donghyuck catches up, Mark gets to hear the little breaths of air he’s huffing, followed by the muffled words he’s trying to say through a mouthful of his flatbread.

Damn that flatbread. 

He's stuffing the entire thing into his mouth—or at least attempting to, and while Mark enjoys watching his enemy struggle, he also knows that Donghyuck's face needs some patching up, needs some cream, some caring for. 

"Hyuck," Mark licks at his thumb as he shivers in his jacket. "Have you got enough bandages and stuff back in the room? We need to make sure because there's no way I'm leaving for the next day or so. I'm only walking straight and with no limp because I'm high off adrenaline and—"

"—Shut up," Donghyuck pokes him in the side where he's bruised. Mark doesn't even flinch. "First of all, who the fuck are you, Lee? Callin' me Hyuck? Never do that again. Are we friends?" 

Mark thinks he's kidding. So, of course, he laughs. 

When he turns back around, Donghyuck's lips angle into a tight line and the cut above his lip disappears, suddenly hidden and no longer outwards or shown to Mark. 

Mark parts his lips open and huffs out a hot and heavy breath, all of it dissipating into the cold air. 

"I—I thought. Uh?" Mark sinks his teeth into the thick bread of his sandwich. "Friends? I'm your lifesaver, Donghyuck. You should thank me for saving you."

As if it wasn’t really the other way around toward the end of their day.

It’s always back and forth with them. Healing and saving and reviving each other.

When Mark looks at Donghyuck, he expects to see a smirk, maybe more of those pink tinted cheeks. A blush. There has always been something about the villain's cheeks that has Mark's stomach in knots. 

"You forget that I could have burned my way through those ropes, Mark," Donghyuck pulls his key from the front pocket of his backpack. "Don't need a guy like you to help me."

In Mark's chest stays a rattle, like a spring that is coiled way too tight, vibrating right up against the bones in his chest. He cannot keep the smile hidden on his face. It blooms freely, openly, with wide and spread arms that have Mark soon titling his face down to stare at the ground. 

Donghyuck opens the side door to their hotel building. 

"A guy like me?" Mark huffs. "I'm a hero. Call me one."

Donghyuck drops a piece of lettuce on the floor. He kicks it until it disappears. Mark gawks at him and scolds him until he's on his hands and knees and peeling it from the side of the wall. He shoves it into Mark's back pocket, squinting his eyes in hesitation as he watches Mark glare back. 

"Hyuck—"

"Donghyuck."

"Call me a hero and I'll call you by your name."

They reach the elevator in silence. 

_ "Fuck,"  _ Donghyuck had said hours ago when his hands had gripped onto the thick, concrete pole of the third floor, face to face with the man they both had been staring at through files for weeks now. _ "Fuck you, man, like seriously. Thanks for the cut to my ankle and all, but you're one nasty son of a bitch, and I don't think I have time to fuck with you." _

Mark remembers staring at him, a gleaming look in his eyes as his fingers worked through the wiring underneath the computer. He was hidden from where Donghyuck was dealing with the enemy they were set to take down, but still through his ears were every word.

Donghyuck and his damn mouth. Mark wouldn't even shut him up because he has one hell of a time listening to him talk up a storm with people they come across. 

_ "You're pretty slow for a fast forward fucker, aren't you?"  _ Donghyuck had moaned before he cried out in pain. Mark practically had heard the way Donghyuck was telling him to hurry _. "I'll admit. That one hurt a little. Just a little, though." _

Another strike had caused Donghyuck to wail. 

_ "And fuck, Mark, would you hurry?" _

It was a cry for help. A plea. An entrance to an uproar from the other half of the team in the room. Mark had almost yelled back at Donghyuck at that very moment. Perhaps he would if he hadn’t been underneath the desk. 

Mark’s feet are heavy on the carpeted floor in front of the elevator.

"A hero," Donghyuck scoffs. His hands are filthy and weak. He has no trouble holding them to his waist and turning to look Mark dead in his eye. "You think you're the only one who took him down?"

They enter the elevator that smells like chlorine. 

Mark wonders who in the world is trying to go swimming right now.  _ In this cold weather? _

The weakness arrives in Mark's body. It starts low at his hip and radiates up his spine. It aches as the pain settles in every cut and bruise and gash. Even Mark's teeth are throbbing. He's dealt with being knocked over and spun around and thrown across buildings. He's still freezing cold, too. 

And now he's shivering. 

"Fuck it, never mind," Mark rolls his eyes and shoves the rest of his mustard filled sandwich into the inside pocket of his puffer jacket. 

He can hear the way Donghyuck's lips are parting open as if he's surprised to hear Mark back down from one of their fights—one of their teasing arguments. The material of Donghyuck's jacket scraping against the side of the elevator is so loud in Mark's ears that he thinks he'd rather whimper in pain over his headache than hear it again and again. 

"Hey," Donghyuck says.

The elevator moves up. 

Tenth floor to the eleventh, past the twelfth. 

Yet, Mark grits his teeth still and wishes that Donghyuck would take a long breath and think before he says any of his next few words. 

Mark’s heart pounds in his chest, nose flaring as he takes in deep breaths of air. It still feels cold, like he's standing with his feet in the snow, nose pressed hard against the frozen pole that he had seen just hours ago. He shivers and stares at the floor, hard blinks causing a drowsiness to fall over him. 

Donghyuck slowly steps closer and whispers out to Mark again, trying to speak in a way that lets him know that he's coming closer. This time, Mark turns his way and places a frown clean onto his lips. 

"Can I warm you up?" Donghyuck frowns. 

Mark rolls his eyes. 

"You never called me a hero," Mark pouts at him, eyes glossed over, voice teasing.

When they reach the twenty-fifth floor, Mark watches the doors slide open. He takes one look at Donghyuck before he sprints out, practically hopping on his toes and making it all the way to their door. 

Mark’s laughter is thick in the air, spinning and spiraling as if he’s taken over the entire world. Donghyuck watches in awe from behind him, his steps becoming slower to get a better look at Mark. If Mark doesn’t know, he does now, because Donghyuck makes it obvious that he’s watching him, eyes squinted and hands stuck deep inside his pockets, lips pursed together as he finally increases the smile on his lips.

"You can't get in without the key," Donghyuck makes his way next to him, crossing his arms.

Up close, Mark gets a glimpse of every feature of his face. 

He's always hot and fiery and tense from afar, but at a hand’s length, Donghyuck is sweet and light spice. His rough features that everyone knows him for are actually too delicate. Mark almost breaks at the knees. His lips part open and he loses his breath in between glancing from Donghyuck to the door again. 

"You forget that I am fantastic. Also, very attractive. And I am a heroic hero," Mark gulps and raises both of his eyebrows. 

"Heroic hero," Donghyuck mutters. "Attractive. Huh. Open the door, Mark. Go on and try, pretty boy, let me see you try."

Mark instantly rips the key from his hand and sticks it in the slot. He opens the door and then kicks it open with his heel, holding his hand out to let Donghyuck in first. As a hero should.

Donghyuck cocks an eyebrow up at him. 

"Very cool," Donghyuck rolls his eyes and follows him into the room. "Such a hero using the room key, Lee, such a hero."

Mark knows he's saying it to mess with him, but the words out of his mouth sound phenomenal and they make Mark want to hear it again and again and again until it's all that Mark knows. His cheeks have crawled into a warm red and settled there. They don't turn into a full blush. It’s a lonely, faint color that adds to his already reddened cheeks. 

Mark finally peels off his jacket and shoes and lets it all off by the front door. If the sandwich is in there, he forgets. He’ll discard it later. 

As expected, the bed calls for him. More than ever, it's the shower that really wants him. Grime still covers Mark, along with all the fifth and the dirt from the day. There's dried blood coating along his shins that has dripped down from his knees, and his neck is stiff. Hot water would be a blessing at a time like this. 

When Donghyuck reaches behind Mark to hang his coat up, he hisses. 

"Holy shit, you're freezing, Mark," he whispers, pulling only inches away to flutter his eyes between Mark's.

Mark shrugs, body still draining with that same exhaustion and weakness from their last moments of the mission they completed together. 

"Not everyone can burn bread and put out a fire with fire, smartass."

Mark's back presses to the mattress at the same time a pain rides up the center of his spine. A slight arch in his posture brings a desire for him to want to turn over. When he does, he stares at the window to find more rapid snowfall.

He rolls his eyes and lets out a tiny whimper at it. 

"Hey, come here," Donghyuck sits on the end of the bed and holds his palms upward, thumbs already moving in hopeless circles like he wants to rub Mark's skin against his own. 

Mark hesitates. 

He glances from the hands that call him and then over to the window. He’s cold. But Donghyuck is so warm. __

He steps forward. To Donghyuck. 

Donghyuck's hands have scrapes and bruises on the other side, but on his palms is soft skin—soft, warm skin that Mark is desperate to fall into. 

"Let's get you warmed up, then you can shower and we can fix up every cut on our bodies and just go to bed."

Except, Mark doesn't want to go to bed. 

He rests his palms on Donghyuck's hands, body drenching in warmth almost five seconds later. His ears return to their normal temperature first, then hint toward something even better. He grins and connects his eyes with Donghyuck, smirking and then biting on the inside of his lip to hide his smile. 

"Thanks," he shivers once, a new heat pooling in the pit of his stomach when Donghyuck continues to hold at his hands. 

He spins them, turns them around and around until he thumbs over one bruise that Mark had received just hours ago. 

“Does it hurt?” Donghyuck whispers, dropping to his knees off the end of the bed to reach over by his bag. “I’ll get something.”

Mark widens his eyes as his throat dries out. 

Donghyuck is on his knees right in front of Mark, his eyelashes are fluttering together and he looks beautiful like this.

Now that his hood has fallen off of his head, his bangs are falling forward and the tips curl at such a beautiful angle. They're red and Mark thinks that he could run his fingers through Donghyuck's hair for hours and never tire of how soft his hair truly is.

It's so delicate, every piece of him.

"No, it's not too bad. It's a bruise. I got hit, so what?" Mark shrugs, legs coming together when Donghyuck rests his palms flat on his kneecaps.

"Could've hit bone. Fracture, a break, maybe," Donghyuck brings Mark's finger up to his cheek. There, he feels an intense warmth, one that radiates warmth like fire and hot like the sun. "Does it ache when I do this?"

Mark wants to cry. His tongue sticks hard to the top of his mouth.

All he can do is shake his head at Donghyuck.

"Good," Donghyuck keeps his eyes on him and releases his hand. "It looks bad, I'm gonna wrap it."

They need to  _ change. _

Donghyuck is still covered in dirt, and Mark thinks that running a bath and just soaking in one would do the trick. He'd sit there for a while and walk out of it in a warm hoodie, maybe just tread around in a towel because he can keep his body warm on his own for as long as he wants.

God, Donghyuck and his warm skin would have Mark weak in his bones for days. Mouth dry and knees wobbly. All of that and so much more. 

"Hyuck, I'm fine, seriously," Mark nearly stumbles over his words as he sits up further to the edge of their shared bed. "Don't worry about it."

But Donghyuck isn't one to ignore a pain in the hand, or a scrape to the back. It's more delicate than that. He furrows his eyebrows and has his lip tucked between his teeth. 

"Palm up," Donghyuck instructs. 

Mark follows. 

"Good boy."

Mark stares at him. 

He swallows dryly and tastes nothing but desire. It sits in the back of his throat afterward while Donghyuck hums to himself, ripping some gauze with his teeth and taking care of Mark's—what he likes to call—delicate hero hands. 

Mark ends up lost in his thoughts a few moments later. 

Every time he blinks he sees the flames, every time he swallows he hears another piece of metal scraping against the roof. But worst of all, every time he looks at Donghyuck, his stomach twists in thought of how he nearly had lost him. 

"That's a little dramatic, Mark," Donghyuck says to him once he hears Mark whisper about how scary it was to have almost watched him die. 

He's speaking softly, an unusual occurrence for someone like Donghyuck, who is usually biting back quick remarks and cocking an eyebrow to tease Mark. 

"I was going to be fine the entire time, I know what I can and can't handle. What I was more concerned about was the fact that you took so fucking long," Donghyuck ends up rolling his eyes, and Mark thinks,  _ he's back.  _

"You had me worried," Mark swallows, bending forward slightly as he grips onto Donghyuck's hand, gaining his full attention. 

The cut on Donghyuck's upper lip makes its reappearance, this time in a small pout. 

"You were worried about me?" 

Out of Donghyuck’s mouth is sincerity. He’s asking a genuine question, and Mark can't stop the tone from hitting him right in the chest. It nearly knocks the breath out of him. Nearly breaks his heart in two, almost as if Donghyuck isn't understanding why someone is worrying over him or his safety.  _ Fuck,  _ Mark wants to touch at his cheeks and scream it at him. Mark wants to reassure him that people worry about him.

Another nod comes from Mark. Short and gentle, eyes never leaving Donghyuck's. 

"I thought heroes never got scared?" Donghyuck sits back on his heels, cocking that damn eyebrow up in a way that has Mark wanting to roll his thumb over it. 

Anything to rub it away. 

"I wasn't scared," Mark puts no hesitation in his voice. "I said I was worried, Donghyuck.”

Before he can lead into anything else, Donghyuck shrugs. 

"Who cares?" He sucks both of his lips into his mouth. "I'm your enemy, Mark. If I die in front of you, it... it sort of benefits you, doesn't it? We're not working together for fun, we're working together because your team—your agency needed us to. They had me play a hero, Mark. I'm not someone like you, okay? I don't save people, I'm not someone that kids look up to—"

"—Hyuck,"

"—No, no, don't,  _ Hyuck,  _ me. Don't do that. Mark, it's true."

"It's not," Mark doesn't let him get away with the downfall of his own vicious words. "Donghyuck, you and I both know that you're not an awful person. You're not exactly like me, but you can't—you're not—don't say that shit! Come on, fuck."

Donghyuck just drags his palm over his face. 

Mark reaches forward desperately to yank his hand from his face. He holds at Donghyuck's wrist and sighs at him. 

"You're filthy. Your hands are dirty. Don't do that, please."

Their eyes meet again. And when they do, Mark sees a rim of redness. Sadness and something close to hope.

Mark's heart lives inside of his chest. But right now, it's on the tips of his fingers, ready for Donghyuck to hold on to. Ready for him to grasp, to squeeze, to have. If he wants to take and take and take. 

"I should shower," Donghyuck says. 

Just like that, Donghyuck is tripping over his bag and grabbing a few things he needs, heading toward the bathroom door. 

The snowfall outside is lighter, but the mood is just as heavy. Mark still despises it because everything is just as hard for him to breathe, and now that Donghyuck has stepped away from him, the tip of his nose has become chilly again. 

"Mark," the gentle voice tracks through the air. 

When Mark peeks up to see what it is Donghyuck needs, he looks right at the last edges of Donghyuck's body to find fingertips that leave just the crack of the bathroom door open. 

_ Fuck.  _

Mark falls onto his side when he hears the water turn on. He brings his legs up to his chest and immediately thinks about the hot water and how soothing it must feel against Donghyuck's neck, how comfortable it must feel against his already warm skin. 

Mark rubs his cheek further into the pillow and then sighs. 

He counts to ten in his head and then says, " _ fuck it,"  _ before making his way right into the bathroom. 

The door doesn't creak open. 

He hopes it would have so that Donghyuck could hear his entrance. He supposes it would have been better that way. Maybe Donghyuck would have poked his head past the curtain and given Mark a smirk, a gasp, or just a gentle smile. Mark seriously has no clue what kind of response Donghyuck would have given him—or will give him as soon as he spots him. 

He steps further in and clicks the door shut. Donghyuck makes no movement to look his way. 

Mark only wonders then if maybe the boy is waiting for him to make the first move through the layers of steam and desperation between them. 

"Donghyuck?" Mark says, voice fluttering through a tunnel of fear before it gets to the light at the end. 

"Hm?" Donghyuck hums back. 

Mark's legs feel thin and flaccid. So suddenly. He has no idea what to say next. He's standing in this bathroom, ready to step into the shower with a man he's not really supposed to be close with, a man who he's so awfully attracted to. 

"Coming?" Donghyuck says it for him, breaking the ice between them. 

"Yeah," Mark's voice trembles. "I'm comin'."

Donghyuck peeks his head from around the curtain, fingers grazing the edges of it. His eyelashes are wet and water runs down his wrists to his elbows, all the way to the tiles on the floor. There's no crooked grin on his face, and the cut on his lip is glistening. Mark wonders if he's licked over it so many times he's healing it with his own tongue. 

Fucking  _ magic.  _

"Good," Donghyuck doesn't grin at him. 

On his face is ease, only soon being added by softer eyes and eyebrows that furrow together. Mark is staring, tightening his fists at his sides, balling up his fingers and hoping that they don't blow up on him as the muscles in his thighs tense. 

Donghyuck disappears back into the shower. 

"Come on, Mark, let's get you all cleaned up," Donghyuck swears after he speaks, hand slapping against the wall as he complains about the placement about where the soap holder is. "Take off the wrapping for your hand first, 'kay?"

"'Kay."

Mark is standing still. He hasn't moved. His legs are still weak, and his heart is beating so hard in his chest. 

As if Donghyuck knows it, he swings the curtain open. 

"Dammit, Superboy, come here," he drops his shoulders and opens and closes his fingers, and Mark doesn't even give it a thought before he's stepping forward toward Donghyuck. 

And now he's  _ wet.  _ Standing in front of a naked Donghyuck Lee, not daring to avert his eyes or carry them anywhere other than where the warm tip of Donghyuck's nose is. 

Hands reach forward to pull on the string of Mark's hoodie. He started the day in a clean sweatshirt, but now he ends his day with Donghyuck removing the filth from him.

"You've got holes in your socks," Donghyuck points.

Mark looks down, but Donghyuck only bumps his chin back up. 

"Look up, I'm trying to take this off of you."

Behind Donghyuck is a wall. Water pours against his back, but most of it is hitting harshly against the both of them, tiny droplets spraying right onto Mark's jawline. His body grows chilly from it, so from an instinct, he reaches his hands forward to touch at Donghyuck's waist, inching lower on his hips, just as soon as Donghyuck gets the hoodie over his head. 

Their eyes meet. 

"You've had quite the night, haven't you?" Donghyuck looks up at Mark, straightening his posture into a more comfortable position. 

This is the Donghyuck that Mark has had the pleasure of getting to know. 

Persistent and mischievous. But there's more to the glass cutting comments and the hard wired tone. There's Donghyuck's unthreatening fingers that brush against his ribs and his large, concerned eyes that look for any point of pain or discomfort over Mark's—his rival's body. 

Mark can't think of himself of anyone other than Donghyuck's enemy right now. 

They've been working together for weeks, suffering through nearly losing each other in the face of a fire. 

_ "Nah,"  _ Donghyuck had dropped a crowbar, ripping a piece of glass from his own side just hours ago. _ "Wake the fuck up, Mark Lee. Wake the fuck up, motherfucker." _

The worst part was that Mark had heard him. 

He felt every nerve tingling in his chest, every tooth in his mouth aching. He desperately wished that the two of them weren't working undercover and had the comfort of their original suits on so that Mark could get the protection he needed. 

Nothing ever happens when they need it to. They weren't prepared. Mark was stumbling over his presentation and made the mistake of not having his jacket on him. He was definitely going to hear it from his team in the next few days. For now, he was bruised, aching, and just really needed a shower. 

"Why are you grabbing me this hard?" Donghyuck is down at his ankles and Mark's hands are hard on his shoulders. 

Oh.

Mark releases his intense hold. He frowns at Donghyuck and yanks his hand away as if he's been burned. 

"Sorry."

A raging red color burns onto Mark's cheeks. It aches on him, stays etched on his skin. Donghyuck is helping him undress and is crouched by his ankles as he helps him step out of his jeans. Donghyuck only pouts up at him and shakes his head, holding at the back of Mark’s calf as he leans forward to kiss at his knee. 

That’s when Mark thinks he loses everything. 

Loses himself. 

Loses his composure. 

His thin legs begin to feel muscle-thick, body more aware of the sensations of blunt nails that scrape as soon as he shivers over the water that hits his bare thighs. 

Staring down at Donghyuck from this upper angle brings a tension that Mark hadn’t known he could possess. 

“That’s okay,” A lingering touch completes the hissing burn in Mark’s body, turning it into a full-blown wildfire. 

He’s standing there in just his boxers. Donghyuck is there, peering up at him and grabbing at his thighs. Mark wants to step forward until Donghyuck is positioned at an angle where he can squish his honey-hot, usually warm cheeks against that muscle in his legs. Mark nearly shivers at the thought of it.

“Ready?” Donghyuck asks him, tugging him out of the daze he is in. 

Mark drops his lips open.

Donghyuck stands up again and backs up under the water, and his hair soaks underneath it. When he does it, his eyes become lost beneath the stream of the water. The red color of his hair is stiff on the bridge of his nose, the color of his eyes gleam through the crystal strips. Mark thinks that he can breathe only through the gaps of air between the water droplets. 

Donghyuck’s hand reaches out as though he’s waiting for Mark to take it. Not only that though, he’s looking at Mark like he wants to devour him, his eyes tracing over his abdomen and patrolling over every inch of his skin. Through the scars, across the valleys of his bruises, his blemishes, his weaknesses, his troubled spots. A hero should never show his scars, but Mark had surpassed that point. He had already fallen off the cliff he was hanging off of. He was gripping the rocks and hitting the bottom, the bottom where Donghyuck stood, ready to grasp onto Mark. 

He's displaying every part of him, open and exposed for Donghyuck to see.

Mark whispers a word. 

One word to Donghyuck. He isn’t sure what he says, but he sees Donghyuck’s cheeks flush over in embarrassment. 

Donghyuck turns on request. 

And when he does, Mark supposes that he must have asked Donghyuck to turn at the last minute. But he doesn’t leave Mark without a hand to grasp, an anchor to tie himself to. He separates his dampened fingers and reaches behind his naked back and waits for Mark to hold on. 

Mark pulls his last garment down his legs and holds onto Donghyuck’s fingers, taking the step into the shower, becoming surged with a wetness that has him gasping and shivering. 

Donghyuck doesn’t let him stay cold for long. 

His hand grips harder at his own and a wicked heat pulses thickly through Mark’s veins. 

_ Shit. _

Mark nearly missteps and falls out of the shower. 

It’s a quick and overwhelming sensation, his breath catching at his throat, his tongue fattening with lust. Donghyuck fingers near his hip and stutters a breath at his ear. He chuckles out next, arranging for a new twisting wrench to curve at the utmost point in Mark’s belly. Turning everything to goo along his insides, he melts him and again and again. 

“You’re good at that,” Mark breathes — rasps. 

Donghyuck reaches for a bottle of the body wash they’ve been sharing. 

“Good at what?” He squirts some body wash into his hands, separating from Mark’s body to lather it until a few bubbles rise. 

Mark monitors what Donghyuck is doing, follows the movement here and there of his fingertips as they stretch the bubbles, popping them when he quickly maneuvers his hands and presses them flat against Mark’s chest. 

There’s no way Mark can answer him when he’s gone all dry mouthed and dented inside, heart scrambling for something to repair it as he clasps at the wrists over his chest. 

_ Too much heat.  _

Mark whimpers this time. 

And when their eyes meet, Donghyuck hears him. 

No words have to exit Mark’s mouth for Donghyuck to hear every emotion picking up storm in his body. 

“Oh,” Donghyuck sighs and settles with a nod. “You mean keeping others warm.”

“Me.”

“You?”

“Yeah,” Mark is running somewhere he wishes to be caught. “Keeping  _ me _ warm. That is what I mean. You’re good at helping me, saving me, and yeah, that. Keeping me warm.”

Stepping back under the stream of the water, Donghyuck closes his eyes. 

He’s pretty like this, Mark thinks. Mouth shut, lips plump and skin soaking wet, golden warmth radiating off every inch of him. Mark wants to poke his finger out against where the water collects at his collarbones and watch it splash. He wants to hear a giggle past those sarcastic and red lips. 

Donghyuck was nearly dead hours ago. 

He was gripped at the throat, hurled across the building, eyes red and angry and hopeless. Mark stood desperately and kept people out of the way, saved many, not to mention prevented four different car accidents from occurring. He  _ saved _ Donghyuck. A few times. Cut wires, made typical hero moves, took down the bad guy  _ with a different bad guy. _

And now he stands bare with Donghyuck in the shower, his shaky hands stilled by warmth. Water catches on his chin and his lips and on the tip of his nose. Time ticks, ticks, ticks, but Mark stays still. 

His hair, his body, and his mind soak. Neither Mark nor Donghyuck say a word again. Not until they’re completely clean, not until Donghyuck whispers a gentle string of words to Mark and reaches behind him in order to find the towels. 

His long hair is so flat that Mark giggles. 

He covers his mouth with his fist and muffles dribbled laughter into the tiny gaps of his fist. 

Donghyuck doesn’t pay attention to Mark’s words. He just turns him at his shoulders and throws a towel over him, blinding his vision. 

“Come on Superboy, go get something warm on,” Donghyuck says to him, hopping from the shower.

Only then does Mark’s heart rate speed up in his chest. 

He furrows his eyebrows as he gathers information of the day. The edge of living, the completion of their mission. He bites on the tip of his tongue and stares at the muscles tensing in Donghyuck’s back. 

“Hyuck,” he forces out. 

He had never been given permission to call him that, but Donghyuck turns upon being called the nickname, curiosity through his vision. 

Mark is smiling like crazy. 

“Hyuck, dude,” he shakes his head, towel covering the lower half of his body. He’s still in the shower. “We fucking did it.”

A flicker of confusion covers the expansion of Donghyuck’s face. Then he softens. From the crease between his eyebrow to the curve at the corners of his mouth. He shrugs. 

“We did, huh?” Donghyuck was smart enough to carry his clothes with him to the bathroom. Mark, however, was not. He just watches Donghyuck as he brings a pair of sweats up his legs. “Mark. You took down one filthy son of bitch.”

His words aren’t spoken with rough lips. Instead, he whispers them into his towel. Rubs and dries his face before he leans up against the sink and looks at himself in the mirror. 

“Shit, and I nearly lost you,” Donghyuck says out of nowhere.

Mark startles from it. 

He’s still grinning and his heart is still vibrating excessively from the course of words they had just shared in the small bathroom, now filled with just steam and slowing hearts. But he loses the smile and straightens it until it’s slanted into a frown.

No question goes chasing past Mark’s lips. He’s all eyes and is searching for his answer in Donghyuck’s expression instead, thinking back curiously to just hours before when they were searching for each other through flames and crowds of people. 

Relief had flooded Donghyuck’s face after they watched the man be taken into custody. The tension in Donghyuck's shoulders had busted, a crooked smile had jumped to his lips and Mark nearly ran to his arms. He hid his own smile next, gulping down the chuckle he wanted to share. His head was pounding, his heart was churning, and his mind was relieved. Donghyuck had been okay. 

“You nearly lost me,” Mark repeats to him, knowing that his own life had been in danger. 

_ When was it not _ , Mark wants to tell him.  _ I am always in danger. It’s part of my job. But isn’t it yours, too? _

“Put on some clothes,” Donghyuck says sharply before he turns to the bedroom, letting the door shut behind him. 

Mark rushes. He isn’t sure why he rushes.

Maybe it’s the thrill of his blood still wrecking inside of his body, or the sudden turn of Donghyuck’s voice, no longer desperate and kind, but rather hard and cold. He needs to be nearer, closer, stepping into his space and finding out what is the matter.

He stares blankly into the mirror. 

There are no clothes for him. 

Donghyuck knows this, and he steps back in with a pile in his hands. 

“Here,” he whispers, then leaves again. 

He has picked out the warm clothes that Mark has been wearing, lounging around in when they have their free time. 

It’s a baby blue shirt, slightly short, with joggers that are a black color. They have pockets with holes in them. Mark doesn’t know where the holes came from. 

The pockets don’t matter. 

But they do, because when he steps out of the bathroom, Donghyuck is in the doorway, panting and waiting for Mark. His eyebrows draw together and his hands clasp at his chest. On his mouth is not a smile, but a slight frown, lips parted open to reveal his lower teeth. Mark stares.

When Donghyuck doesn’t say a word, Mark does. 

“Donghyuck,” he whispers, his eyes locked on the darkness that spills from the boy before him. 

“Yeah?”

Mark reaches forward to take his wrists, prying his fingers lightly apart until they spread open, until they’re loose and limp in his hands. He tugs them forward until they’re low at Mark’s waist, until they’re hovering near his pockets. 

Donghyuck catches on and dips his fingers into the warmth of Mark’s pockets, feeling against Mark’s thighs through the thin material of his pants. 

From there, they are close. 

Mark cranes his neck up to the ceiling and loses more of himself. The thickness in his legs becomes thin with weakness again as Donghyuck stretches his hands back around to grip as far as he can go.  _ He’s stretching the material.  _ But it’s incredible.  _ He’s pulling everything taut.  _ But it’s igniting a flame.  _ His dipping past the holes, touching skin.  _ But now it’s drawing heat to Mark’s core. 

“Mark,” Donghyuck whispers to him, clears his throat and then tries again. “Look at me.”

There’s no hesitation in Mark’s movement. He pulls his neck down and tries to look at Donghyuck through the blurriness in his eyes. 

Satisfaction is thick through the space between them. Donghyuck clearly soaks in it, fingers tingling down at Mark’s pockets, guiding him forward until their bodies collide. 

The pressure has Mark twitching in his thin pants. The heat of his flames are so far lit that he doesn’t think his sounds can be held back behind his lips for any longer. He bites down instead, sealing off a wall. He’s waiting for Donghyuck to say something. To make a joke, about their sandwiches, about the mustard,  _ the banana peppers. _ Maybe he will swear four times in a row and maybe Mark will come on the spot. He isn’t really sure. 

Much like the touch Donghyuck gives, the rest of him is hot. Devastatingly hot. 

“You’ve been great,” Donghyuck tells him, their mouths moments away from one another.

Mark isn’t fearful of his words. He doesn’t stand confused or shaky with need. He is just ready, stomach boiling with a lustful sensation and nose twitching to figure him out. 

“What do you mean?”

“To me,” Donghyuck admits, hips rubbing forward. 

Mark bites harder on his lip. He doesn’t let the flush of heat bother him. He stares deeper into Donghyuck’s eyes and continues their conversation. 

Donghyuck continues, “this entire time. We’ve worked so hard together, so well. You’ve been polite. An asshole. Sweet. Really fucking annoying. Fun to be around. Weird when you get banana pep — ”

His fingers scrape again, back along Mark’s thighs and this time so far back that they stretch to Mark’s ass. 

“Now hold on,” Mark rolls his eyes. “I thought you told me I had been great. What’s with all the in between?”

Mark is taking steps backward, maneuvering them until they are just feet away from the flowery wall. 

_ He wants Donghyuck against it. _

“All the in between,” Donghyuck chuckles, hands squeezing Mark’s ass until Mark whimpers. “All the in between,  _ Mark,  _ is because I like to tease you.”

The hands release and the material of his pants loosens up again. Once it does, Mark sucks in the most desperate gasp of air that he can manage. 

“Yeah,” Mark says. “Yeah, I can really tell.”

Donghyuck smiles at him. A goofy, lopsided smile as he shyly bites down on his own lip. 

With one glance to the floor, Mark carries them both to the wall. He has Donghyuck flush against it, back and hips and spine all snug and getting to know the flowers painted with colors on the walls. 

Then, as if everything is fixed in the world, their mouths are moving together. 

He kisses Donghyuck with as much fervor as there is in the world. The heat extended at the tips of his fingers has gone numb and Mark isn’t sure if it’s because he’s touching Donghyuck’s skin or if he’s just completely turned on. Whichever of the two, Mark squeezes at his face, rolls his body forward and waits for another choked whine to exit from Donghyuck’s lips. 

When it finally does, Mark’s chest rises with an excessive amount of comfort. He presses to Donghyuck in need, in a gripping desperation, hoping Donghyuck will do the same.

Donghyuck’s arms gather at Mark’s back. 

“Stand up straighter,” he bites at Mark’s lips. “You’re falling.”

Mark doesn’t realize it. 

His legs are shaking too, but so are Donghyuck’s. 

For the weeks they’ve been working together, they’ve snapped at each other, teased each other. They have different goals, different visions, different touches. But Mark knows that Donghyuck’s hands don’t grip blood the way evil does. His hands may be calloused and hot, but he caresses Mark as if he is the most delicate in the world.

“Dammit,” Donghyuck bites again at Mark’s lip, not far off from a laugh when he scrapes at the back of his legs, picking him up to carry him toward the bed. “Sit, will you?”

Then he looks at Mark. 

He’s waiting for a voice of approval. 

Mark crumbles more and more and draws him in for a kiss. A hard, open-mouthed, hands casing around Donghyuck’s neck kind of kiss. He lazily falls back as Donghyuck falls with him. There are hands up in his hair, knees at his side, and a tongue that dips thoroughly into the warmth of his mouth. 

“Can you believe,” Mark stutters a breath when Donghyuck tilts his head back toward him, finger under his chin and thumb on his cheek. “That we really did it?” Donghyuck strays from his mouth to suck hard on Mark’s jaw. 

The combination of warmth and the suction of his lips is going to drive Mark wild.

“Like,” Mark continues. “We nearly died. And now you’re on top of me.”

Donghyuck snickers at his ear, tongue flattening over the quick pulse of his neck. 

“I am,” Donghyuck musters a breath. “And you’re so fucking hard, Mark.”

This time Mark gives him a look. His fingers stretch on the front of Donghyuck's chest and he bites on the flesh of his swollen lip to push himself back. 

Donghyuck touches, strokes, and moves up and down his skin.

Mark picks up his foot, unaware of where to place it.

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Are you not?"

The tone of his voice comes naturally. Raw and shy, but teasing as he speaks to Donghyuck. It's only natural of the two of them, bumping hearts begging to stick together with each thick beat.

Donghyuck's nose touches his.

"I am," he whispers. "I am. I am. I  _ so _ am, such a hero like you touching me, kissing me, rubbing your dick against mine. Course I am gonna be, you have me wanting to fuck you so bad."

Mark arches his way.

"You talk so dirty," Mark bumps the bridge of his nose. On accident.

It hurts, but not enough for him to hiss. His eyes water slightly, and he pulls Donghyuck closer by hooking his heel around his back. When their cores meet, it's Donghyuck whose chin tilts up, it's Donghyuck who pours out a low groan and licks across the inside of his lip.

"I know," he shakes his head. "It's hot, is it not?"

"It's annoying," Mark rolls him over and tangles his hands into Donghyuck's hair. "Shut up."

The sound of Donghyuck's laugh in Mark's mouth is suffocating in their chests.

The bare skin on Donghyuck is enough for Mark to want and reach and want again. He tries, too, sliding his hands past the wet tangles of his hair, letting his fingernails scrape against his throat until he reaches the electrifying dips of Donghyuck's collarbones. There, his skin is still slightly damp. Mark's legs dangle from the bed for his mouth to reach them. He sucks and holds his tongue, tightens his thighs around Donghyuck before opening his mouth and swallowing his own gasps.

"Come on, Mark," Donghyuck whispers to him. "Let me."

_ His tone of voice isn't fair, _ Mark thinks.

He's offering his hand and his breath is shortening. He's shivering, but he's so warm. Mark's thoughts are going too fast, but he can't keep up with anything other than the tapping of Donghyuck's fingers on the curve of his waist. 

"Please," Mark asks, begs, guides his hand until Donghyuck is inches away from him. 

A laugh drowns out the whispers between them. 

Donghyuck perches up on his elbows and turns to rest on his hip. 

"Holy shit, Mark," he is smirking. 

Mark knows what he is talking about. He does, but he doesn't want to think about it. 

Donghyuck crawls a few feet back on the bed until they're higher up and supposedly waits for Mark to join him. Uncomfortably, with wet-spotted pants and red-blushed cheeks, Mark follows. 

"Can I suck you off? Will you come down my throat?"

If Mark hadn't been dying to cry out then, he sure hell wants to right now.

His hands cup Donghyuck's cheeks. He squishes them together. He all but moans at the thought of Donghyuck's lips wrapped around his cock, the pink, careful plumpness, wet with warmth. Mark kisses him once and twice and then whispers a sigh against him. 

"Yes. Yes!" 

"Yes?" 

Mark nods, the tip of his nose dragging through the slickness of Donghyuck's lips. As it does, Donghyuck attempts to kiss and bite at it. 

"Lie down, Superboy," he grumbles before taking his hand and fumbling with the edge of Mark's shirt. "Stop saving the day and let me save yours."

Mark furrows his eyebrows. 

"Hyuck," he wipes the wetness from his nose. "Dude, what?"

If this were two weeks ago, they probably wouldn't have laughed. Mark would have furrowed his eyebrows and scowled at Donghyuck like he was the worst thing Mark had ever seen. Donghyuck would have rolled his eyes again and again, just until Mark huffed out air and grabbed his coat, leaving the hotel room in annoyance from the strange flirting and troubled sexual tension in the air. 

Sure, perhaps it had been thick from the start. But Mark had never felt so attached to someone like Donghyuck. 

Haechan kept his eyes on him through their victories, but Donghyuck never dared to lose eye contact. 

"Go with me," Donghyuck rolls his eyes, warm fingers dipping at the pajama pants Mark has on. "I'm flirting."

"You fucking suck at it," Mark presses his toes together when Donghyuck lies a kiss to the lowest part of his abdomen, where his belly rises and falls rapidly. 

From there, a silence falls, allowing for a peace of twitching and hard swallows to make themselves be known. 

Donghyuck blows and hums on the hickeys he lies onto Mark's soft skin. He presses and pleases and bites, all things that leave Mark wanting, craving, hoping, begging, and arching into a fountain of passion.

"Enough," Mark growls through his teeth. "Donghyuck. Please."

A spark flickers behind Donghyuck's eyes. 

He's there, fingers dipping and dipping, but his eyes are somewhere else. They're on Mark, settling strictly for eye contact. He doesn't look away when he cups his hand all the way down through his joggers, skin to skin. It's hot, most likely from how hard Mark is, precum already visible. It doesn't go unnoticed by Donghyuck either. In fact, it's where he starts. Thumb rolling over the most sensitive part of him as Mark nearly forgets the rest of it.

They're staring, and Donghyuck keeps Mark's chin steady. 

_ Look at me,  _ he says without saying anything at all. 

Mark blinks. 

His mouth falls open, and his legs shake. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Donghyuck smiles at him and drops his nose to Mark's hip bone as he swirls another circle against the head of Mark's cock, wet finger pushing at the slit. He whispers out a laugh against Mark's skin.

"What?" Mark brushes his hair back until he sees a couple of scars at his hairline. 

_ I know about these ones,  _ Mark thinks. 

_ Two thousand and seventeen.  _

_ Near Brooklyn Bridge.  _ Donghyuck said it was almost midnight when he had been struck at his forehead, knocked cold. Mark was nearby when it had happened, but hadn't been alerted that there was chaos, or anything of that sort going on. He knew  _ of _ Haechan, but had hardly any connection with him. Just understood that he was a  _ kind _ villain, known for his undercover work. 

"Just you," Donghyuck paints Mark's hip with a kiss. "You're making me a little shy."

"Why?"

"I can tell you want to close your eyes."

"Oh," Mark struggles to lock another laugh behind his teeth. "Yeah, I do. Do you not want me to?"

"Do whatever you please, Mark, but I'd love to see you."

Hearing him like this makes Mark want to tug him back down into a kiss. No breath between them, sweat only mixing with lust. Mark wants so bad.  _ Fuck everything else,  _ he wants to say.  _ Donghyuck wants eye contact, Mark wants to please.  _

Mark nods this time, licking at his own lips that still taste of Donghyuck. A bit sour like candy and warm, very opposite of the snow that falls past their windows. He also tastes salty, like Mark is licking at the first layer of the ocean, the waves crashing on the tip of his tongue. However, Mark knows it's from the sandwich.  _ Of course, of course.  _

Fiddling at Donghyuck's ears, Mark grins. He rubs the tips of his ears between his fingers and creases his lips into a thin line. Donghyuck rolls his eyes at it, knowing that Mark is about to lead him. 

Leading him he does. 

Mark's pants are pulled down soon, and Donghyuck's lips are pressed so low at Mark's waistline that he can no longer keep his tight-lipped smile together. 

He releases the tension collecting around at the back of his spine and falls boneless when Donghyuck takes him into his mouth. When Mark slams his head back, Donghyuck taps on his belly, leaving one hand there to rub a soothing set of circles, to remind Mark of his own body, his breathing, finger dipping into his belly button for sensitivity.

"Hyuck," Mark's eyes bore into his. Mark doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what argument to start, doesn't know what fight to fix. He drains Donghyuck's name, wrings it out until he can't any longer. "Yes."

"Yes?"

Mark doesn't know where Donghyuck's dirty mouth has gone. 

It's been replaced with pure magic and a lot of...  _ good stuff. _ Fuck.  _ Great stuff.  _

An arch of Mark's back makes Donghyuck move deeper. Mark coils and builds up a whine in the back of his throat. His hips are off the bed in a matter of seconds. 

There's heat covering every inch of his skin, and his eyes are tightly closed. Donghyuck is also giggling at him, tongue tangling into the pit of Mark's nerves, freezing him, aching him until his toes curl and until his hips drop to the bed again. 

So much about Donghyuck is beautiful, but Mark thinks his eyes are the most sincere. He sees an entire future in them, an entire world of hope and emotion growing in front of him. 

His hands rub at Mark's stomach as he keeps his focus on him. Mark finds safety in Donghyuck's eyes. 

"Fuck," he swears. "Fuck, Donghyuck."

Saying his name once is like opening a gate. Suddenly, Mark can't stop whispering out to him. 

He knows that Donghyuck loves it, because he's moaning around Mark's cock, teeth lightly grazing against it when his head lolls to the side to take a deep breath. 

"Fuck my mouth, Mark," he tells him. 

If Mark was being completely honest, he really has no positive thoughts on how many strokes he has in him before he'll be spilling past Donghyuck's lips. But, when Donghyuck's fingers draw up the base of his cock to press a dangerous kiss, Mark’s chest rises with desire.

“Oh,” Mark mutters, eyes stinging on dryness. “Shit.”

They reposition themselves until Mark is off the bed, and until Donghyuck has his knees pressed to the floor. 

On Donghyuck's lips is spit. 

Mark pumps in and out past them, and Donghyuck tears up. He glares at Mark and pinches his thigh when Mark looks away from him.  _ The eye contact.  _ Donghyuck never looks away from an enemy.  _ He also never looks away from someone when he has their dick in his mouth.  _ Mark wants to come. 

He's carrying a bag of emotions on his back and Mark is filling it with more things the longer he sticks around with Donghyuck. But he doesn't dare to leave. Not now. N _ ever.  _ But Mark shouldn’t think about that now. Maybe later. Maybe  _ never _ .

Pushing the hair back on Donghyuck's forehead, he smiles at him. 

_ "Haechan," _ Mark says to him in a low tone.

He wants to tell him how well he’s doing, how incredible he is, how perfect he looks. But it’s hard to do anything when a thick and relaxed and desperate moan curls from Donghyuck's tongue. 

Mark can feel it and he groans too. It's so much that Mark twitches in his mouth. 

"I'm gonna come," he says so suddenly. "Donghyuck."

The suction and wet heat of Donghyuck's mouth is enough to nearly tip Mark over the edge. 

"Here," Donghyuck licks his bottom lip. 

Mark doesn't want to be the one to tell him it's already soaked with spit. 

"Baby," Mark's legs are weak again. “Fuck.”

Through Mark's blurred eyes and his thickened pulse, he comes against Donghyuck's lips, hearing only a string of words when his ears stop ringing. 

His breath halts and his mind races and all he sees is Donghyuck. 

_ Fuck the eye contact,  _ he thinks. 

His eyes are shut. 

Against his chest is Donghyuck's warm skin, and against his wrists are Donghyuck's warm fingers. It's Donghyuck's warmth everywhere. Warm, warm, warm. Mark feels it in his blood.

"Hey," he whispers to Mark, who finally looks at him and flushes a dark red color, somewhat like the color of Donghyuck's hair. 

Mark smiles silly, scrunches his nose and raises his chest. 

“Donghyuck,” Mark says relieved, nose knocking with Donghyuck's as he draws him in for a slow kiss. “You’re incredible.”

Mark finally tells him everything he had wanted to say, turning his cheeks red. 

The kiss is all lips, no tongue, no effort. It's weak, too much feeling, and not enough movement. Mark's hands touch and graze and caress at the back of Donghyuck's spine, and find comfort in the way his muscles move to lower Mark to the bed. 

Mark can feel how hard he is. He gulps at it and feels himself hitch a breath when Donghyuck climbs over him in order to lie on the opposite side of the bed, just so they can get closer. 

One reach later, Mark touches the dampened front of Donghyuck's sweatpants. 

His fingers don't stutter at all. He presses the heel of his palm between Donghyuck's thighs and almost teases him at the tongue that suddenly slips between them. 

Donghyuck pulls back and brings both of Mark's hands between their faces. He kisses at his knuckles gracefully, simply staring into his eyes. 

"Mark Lee," Donghyuck hums. "I am going to fuck you so hard."

Donghyuck does. 

That night when the snow is falling, he fucks Mark so hard  _ that the power goes out. _

It's the snow that causes the power to go out, but they fuck through it. Mark covers his mouth while Donghyuck's hips snap against his, eyes dark and body forward as they connect toward each other. Their bodies are sticky with sweat, skin still clean from the shower but now dampened from the heat rushing beneath them. 

Donghyuck enters him again and again and again until Mark claws at his chest, gripping and waiting and pulling him until he's closer, less than inches apart from him. Mark is greedy. He whimpers and arches his back until he thumbs at the head of his own cock, viciously finding Donghyuck's eyes when he loses the contact between them. 

There are whispers that taste like shouts in their mouths, and moans that taste filthy. Mixed, Mark just tastes  _ Donghyuck _ and he captures it all together, hoping that it stays tingling at the edge of his tongue. 

When Donghyuck slows his movements, Mark knows he's on the verge of letting himself through his own wave. 

"Donghyuck," Mark calls out to him. "Come on."

As if fighting his own battle, Donghyuck leans forward and bites against the shell of Mark's ear, arching his back until he hits so deep inside of Mark that it has him dangerously thrilled. 

"Are you gonna come twice for me tonight, Mark?" It’s like he’s distracting himself. But his words always do something to Mark.

Mark is coming hard on the sheets of their hotel bed, and Donghyuck knows it. He is pumping Mark through the rest of the way as he finds Mark's hand, interlocking their fingers as their skin sticks together. 

Mark curls his hand and whispers Donghyuck’s name. 

He expects himself to yell, to shout and scream out Donghyuck’s name. But he whispers it like he’s in love. Their fingers are interlocked and the sweat at their knuckles combines. 

Breaths of hot air coat his body as Donghyuck’s voice rises. 

Donghyuck spills into the condom and sucks in a shaky gasp. His body trembles behind Mark while Mark lies lifeless on the bed, head of his cock so sensitive on the sheets. He can't even bother to move yet because he's still listening intently to the way Donghyuck is huffing out soft cries from behind him, desperate and breathy, hopeless and gentle. It's so unlike him. Mark falls onto his side and shivers at the lack of touch, the icy feeling from the window that gives off air. But Donghyuck finds his eyes and comes forward, looking like lust and sleep, leaning forward to stroke at the tear falling from Mark's cheek. The tear he hadn't known was even there. He must’ve been squeezing his eyes so tight.

"Fuck," Donghyuck gulps hard. "I came so hard."

Mark offers a shy grin almost at the same time Donghyuck does. 

He reaches a hand up to pull him down, to lazily kiss him and to say all the things he cannot. Donghyuck is like putty. He is a man who is gentle in Mark’s hands and powerful outside of their door. Mark sees him for all that he is. His heart grows fond at the sight of him. 

"You sound amazing like that," Mark tells him, bringing a single eyebrow up, smile following soon after. 

The cold weather and the lack of the heater make the room quiet. Donghyuck places his hand on Mark's bare chest and closes his eyes. 

"You came twice tonight, Mark," Donghyuck isn't smirking, but instead, a tired smile rises on his face. Lips plump and slick with Mark's doing. "What a hero."

Mark snickers at him and slaps his chest weakly. 

“Heroes need to be taken care of sometimes too, y’know?” Mark says it jokingly, but Donghyuck’s smile falls from his face. 

He tangles his hands in Mark’s already dried hair. 

“Mark,” he says seriously. “I choked on your dick. Was that not enough to take care of you?”

Only a second goes by before Mark is shoving him. 

“Donghyuck!”

“I’m kidding,” Donghyuck carefully looks over the course of Mark’s body.  _ He’s admiring,  _ Mark thinks.  _ Slowly.  _ “We take care of each other, Mark.”

“Yeah,” Mark repeats. “I like it.”

Through his eyes, Mark sees it. The thick lines of honesty that Donghyuck has always had, the ones that have been lit more recently just the past few weeks that they have been working together. Mark has seen him fall and break and get back up again. He has seen Donghyuck overpower and conquer and win. But now he sees just the emotion flooding in his eyes, it’s sincere and Mark wants to kiss him again—now. He wants to kiss Donghyuck now.

He does. 

Mark kisses him until his lips turn new shades of reds and reds and then even darker reds. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> here's my [twt](https://twitter.com/h_a_e_c_h)


End file.
